Spinning Time
by Annelaine
Summary: Harry Potter travels back in time to his parents' seventh year, losing his memory. It is upt to James to set everything right using his special talent. Will he succeed? Takes place after HBP, cos I started it BEFORE book 7 came out. Please read & review!
1. Chapter 1

**Spinning Time**

_Dedicated to: My big sister Rosamond, who celebrates her name-day today.(26.07.07.)_

_Boldog névnapot !_

Chapter 1:

Harry Potter was having a very bad night - restless, waking and falling asleep from time to time, thanks to the unpleasant adventures he had during the past year. Everything came back, starting from when he was so glad Dumbledore would take him on the Horcrux Hunt. How had he thrilled to the idea, and thought the wise headmaster appreciated him - on his last day.

He saw him yet again, the tall figure hit square in the chest by the jet of bright green light, so helpless. And Harry could do nothing, he was gone. Just like that...

Panting and sweating, the boy with the scar on his head woke again. He gasped for breath, thinking over what he had lived through. He rolled off the bed, and stood by the window, looking into the night. Dark and suspicious, who knows till when?

Hardly any stars could be seen in the sky, black and gray clouds stood mighty and strong - powerfully unmovable. Nobody knows whats under these same skies, how many hooded Death Eaters, waiting for command, how many scared witches and wizards under blankets that don't warm freezing souls, which suffer from fright...

Harry stood there for a long time, thinking about what his life had been like, all the shocks, unexpected twists and turns, and unconsciously came to a fact. Out of his nearly seventeen years, he had enjoyed the past 6 years of possible danger more than the safe suffering. How hard it is to endure the Dursleys, though he knows he is safe with them.

Probably he resembles his father in this too- prefer the risk, just because it would be more comfortable.

His eyes wandered over the black silhouettes of big houses and tall trees, searching the skies for a black dot somewhere. He knew Hedwig woudn't be back for long yet, but still he wished the company of someone. Hedwig flew away a few hours ago, on the night of her owner's birthday, obviously seeking Harry's friends, to ensure presents...

Harry was still searching the skies, when he found the only shining star between the massive clouds. It was blinking and disappearing from time to time, struggling to break free off the huge smokes of clouds surrounding it, like a drowning fighter, never giving up. Harry wouldn't take his eyes off it - the star touched some feeling in him, filled him with courage, and ... sadness.

He thought of his Dad, Mum, and Sirius. And Dumbledore, and all the brave wizards and witches who stood up to Lord Voldemort, and wished he could be as brave as any of them. The star slowly faded, and Harry leaned closer to the window. He looked at his watch, and saw that it was 7 minutes till his birthday.

In just seven minutes, his whole life will change. A new chapter will open before him, a chapter, if possible, even more serious than this one. Serious and cruel, as Harry had had to learn so far, cruel and heartless. Or not. Turning seventeen as a wizard is a great change, he can use magic any time, but it will also mean he will have to fight.

Fight. What a cruel word, in a cruel world. Still, it's his job. He has to do it, for that star. For his parents, who died for him. For Sirius. For Dumbledore. For the previous Order members. They all sacrified themselves for one moment, and those yet alive have to fight for that moment. The moment, when these cruel and mighty clouds clear away.

That will be his moment. All forms of evil shall disappear, fog away, vanish. All sadness shall blossom out, and leave sweet memories. Memories of olden days, memories of the past, and the faithful people who gave all they had, their life just for that moment.

But when will it come? How many shall suffer, how much, in what way, how? How can evryone bear it? Nothing. Nobody knows. All we know is nothing. Nothing. Nothing. Nothing. Thing. Thing. Thing...

The word echoed in Harry's mind, and made his head ache. He felt his scar which was burning. A cold rush went through his whole body, making him shiver, he lowered his head, and felt crumpled up... squashed and defeated...

Then he jumped as if he had an electric schock. His whole body buzzed slightly with energy, he held his head high, and looked out of the window with new bravery and courage. He will not be defeated. He will fight, and fight alone, if necessary.

He will give his last drop of blood to prevent the Dark Powers from succeeding. His scar still burned, but he didn't care. He was dead tired, but he didn't care. All he cared about, was reaching his goal, which he could see clearly, now.

He looked at his watch again. 5 and a half minutes till his birthday. Five and a half minutes till his new life, four minutes to gain all the courage he will need for the rest of his life, however long that may be.

He looked back at the clouds, to the spot where the fighting star had faded away three minutes before. His thoughts wandered to the Mirror of Erised. A passing memory flickered through his mind of his first year, and how he had watched his family for long nights.

He knew what he'd see now. He'd see his moment. The moment. He'd see the world free of cruelty and evil, and he would see love surrounding him.

Then and there, he decided to do whatever was needed to reach his goal. The moment so many had died for: Voldemort's Death.

D---R---A---M---A---T---I---C--- ---P---A---U---S---E---

It was 4 minutes to Harry Potter's birthday, the boy who was standing next to his window, watching the night sky. He spotted two black patches in the sky. Owls.

One was Hedwig, carrying a brown parcel, with the Hogwarts crest on it - Hagrid's gift. Harry tore it open eagerly, to find a half-squashed toffee cake (though you never know with Hagrid), and a small glass orb-like oval- well, ball.

The other owl brought a box from Hermione, carefully wrapped, what other than a book. It had a beautiful emerald cover, with one silver streak in it. It had no title, but as Harry flipped it open, he saw tiny writing in silver and gold. Handwritten, judging by the letters, every chapter was written by a different witch or wizard. It must have cost a lot.

Harry put it aside carefully, not surprised that he didn't get a cake from his bushy headed friend. Hermione's parents were dentists. Before he could read her and Hagrids card, another owl arrived, and didn't leave Harry peace till he freed it from it's burden. It contained a huge load of cakes and pasties and home-made cookies from Mrs. Weasley, and Ron's gift, a new kind of broomstick preserving cream.

A fourth owl soured into Harry's room that night, bringing a small packet in misty purple wrapping. Harry was surprised at first, then smiled when he looked at it. Ginny was gifted at giving the perfect gifts (hahaha).

He was looking at the four birthday cards he got, then looked out into the sky. There was only one more minute to his birthday, when he saw another black dot in the sky. It was a dark, black midnight-bird, the magical bird of darkness. It brought a small black letter, and Harry opened it wondering who sent him the letter.

Then he saw the small Dark Mark on the edge of the paper, mystery solved about who sent it. But why would Lord Voldemort send a letter to the Boy Who Lived, of all people. He should know Harry'd never turn to the Dark side.

He read it quickly:

_Harry James Potter, the Boy Who Lived_

_I will surprise you on this wonderful night, by wishing you a happy birthday. I went as far as arranging you a pleasant surprise - a birthday surprise, if you please. No doubt you'll enjoy your stay at Hogwarts 7th year, especially in your dear parents company. Yes, Harry, and no doubt you'll like them so much, you'll stay _in your parent's time _FOREVER! With you gone, I can achieve my darkest deeds... don't worry, I arranged for your memory to be modified, and so, goodbye, Potter. No more fighting for you! Enjoy your doom... NOW!_

_the Dark Lord_

As Harry read the last line, he felt the parchment grow hot, and managed a last glance at his watch - exactly the moment of his birth, and on his seventeenth birthday, a letter from Voldemort turned into a portkey, and took him to his parent's 7th year at Hogwarts. Vldemort's newest evil trick was turning out to be quite well-thought and planned. With Harry out of the way, he had a sure chance of victory.

The parchment reached it's highest temperature, white-hot, causing Harry a lot of pain, the world span around him, and he felt his insides lurch. He was traveling back in time.

E---N---D--- ---O---F--- ---C---H---A---P---T---E---R--- ---O---N---E---

A/N: This is my first Harry Potter fic (second fic of any type), and I started writing it before the seventh book came out, so it takes place after the 6th book.

PLEASE REVIEW!!!


	2. Chapter 2

Chapter 2:

Harry Potter felt the room melting and fading into an endless source of white, hurting his eyes, so he quickly shut them. He felt dizzy and tired, the world seemed to spin round and round.

He dared a small peep, and saw that he was still in Number 4, Privet Drive, in his room... or rather what his room was like 22 years ago. (A/N: He doesn't know all this, this is just narrator talk...)

He was standing infront of the window, watching the black night... just like five minutes ago, and he wasn't sure if anything had happened to him at all.

He turned back to look at the room, which was completely different than what he was used to.

It was very tidy, every book was in it's own place on the shelves, the walls were a light shade of peach, giving the room the air of a friendly living-place.

On the pink-rose-patterned white shelves where schoolbooks, like Harry had: Transiguration for Beginners Grade 3, the same for grade 4 and 5 and 6, Potions books, Defence for OWL-ers, etc.

On the wall was a silver-framed big mirror that Harry was sure he didn't have...

What surprised and alarmed him most, was the big, frilly white bed, with a big, fluffy, frilly white blanket with small green lilies on it... and a mane of tangled red hair - _long _red hair.

That meant Harry Potter was in a girl's bedroom, 3 minutes past midnight, with the girl sleeping on her bed... he must get away quickly.

Then he noticed that though he wasn't in his own room, his suitcase was near the window, packed with all his things, his Firebolt lying nexto it... He grabbed them in his hand, placed a rushed silencing charm on the house to let him get away unnoticed, and tiptoed down the staircase.

The house was slightly different, too. The small cupboard under the staircase was missing – a big green plant into a pot there instead. The house wasn't so painfully clean and spotless, but tidy and neat. The warm sunny yellow walls made it look cozy and friendly and inviting, and the front door was shrubby green.

Harry checked the front door, finding it locked, but solved the matter with a simple 'Alohomora!'.

In no time he was outside with his suitcase in hand and Firebolt in the other, walking on the quiet streets of Privet Drive.

When his luggage seemed to rip his arm off with it's weight, he stopped to sit down and rest on a bench. He tried to think things over.

Harry Potter was convinced that he lived in London, Musschatte Street 39, he was a very very distant relative of James Potter (by marriage), and his parents had taught him magic at home so far, but decided it were better for him to go to Hogwarts, because he was getting anti-social, and they went to Brazil to visit their old schoolmates.

He had a few Galleons stocked in an old sock in his trunk, and decided that he could stay at the Leaky Cauldron, but he couldn't Apparate yet, since he just turned seventeen.

He finally chose to fish his Invisibility cloak from his trunk and go on his broomstick.

It was wonderful to fly in the midnight sky, feel the light tickle of wind on his arms and face, his cloak fluttering slightly around his ankles...

He arrived in no time, his flying abilities as good as ever, and landed with a soft thud before the entrance of the Leaky Cauldron. He slipped off his cloak, stuffed it into his already full bag, and walked in.

He found 'old Tom' behind the bar, resting his chin in his hands, his elbows firm on the barplate. He was evidently tired, listening into slips of conversation from the wooden tables in the dimly lit room, occupied mainly by old wizards drinking endless glasses of Firewhisky...

Nobody noticed Harry as he walked to 'old Tom', who was still staring into nothing. Harry had to tap him on his shoulder twice, then he let his arms fall and his face scanned Harry.

"James...Potter? ..." he muttered, and his head rested in his hands again.

Harry took out his wand, and decided to wake the bartender in a different manner-

"Aguamenti" he whispered, and watched as a thin shot of water poured into Tom's face. This worked.

"Hullo" Harry could make out the face by now, this definitely was 'old Tom' in his late twenties. His face was yellow-red, thin and rather long, his hair was dull brown, his eyes small and nutty.

"Blimey, James, what'd you do to your eyes?" was his next sentence, and Harry replied coolly.

"My name is Harry Potter. I would like to stay here till September the first..." he couldn't finish, Tom interrupted him mid-sentence. He apologised for calling him James, blimey, did they look alike, and ushered him upstairs to a room.

As an afterthought, before leaving Harry to his room, he turned to face him and asked, in a low and hurried whisper:

"What is a Hogwarts student doing out in the dark night, at twelve?" Harry blinked.

"Oh, mister... "

"Tom haaa-khum" his cough was the same as more than twenty years later...

"Well, mister Tom, you must understand, that my parents left for Brazil. I had to see them off, of course, and then I had to come here by broom, since I can't Apparate... and it isn't exactly a minute..."

Tom humphed and muttered as he tottled down the stairs, not exactly believing what Harry said.

"Let them think they own the world, oh just let them! Think he can lie to me, the boy! Off to Brazil, right... as if parents would let their child alone at midnight... in these times, too!"

He coughed loudly again, and cleared his throat.

"One could think him a Death Eater, yeah, one could... as if I hadn't seen a lot of them.. come to my bar late at night, dark black cloaks haa-khumph! Low whisphers, mutters, deathly glances, but Tom hear and sees everything! They think Tom sleeps, but Tom leaves his ear open...!"

He muttered furiously, cursing the raven-headed boy asleep in his room, thinking he would understand young James Potter, but noone else... except for that Black boy. Escape from his home! That boy knows not what he's doing!

A few mutters lead him back to the pub, resting his head in his hands once more, listening to the drunken (or not so drunken) conversations.

Little whisps, some of them could bring Voldemort down... but Tom can't say anything, for he needs his customers.

The world can often hear him cursing all the money in the world, bringing distress and poverty.

**A/N: Sorry for this being late, I was on holiday and our computer broke down... I'll try and be quicker. **

**I read HP7, I might use some ideas, just warning! **


	3. Chapter 3

**

* * *

A/N:** I am really really very very sorry, please forgive me everyone... I know I'm a lazy idiot who deserves to be hung twice and wrapped up in my intestines... but will you all forgive me?????? I was kinda stuck, and was too lazy to try hard, but at last: I managed somehow. Anyway, don't expect anything great, cos this chap sucks, plus it's short, but I really want to go on, so sorry. I might come back and rewrite it later. 

Oh, and I nearly forgot:

This chapter is _dedicated to_ my sister _Rosamond_, cuz it was her birthday last Sunday.

**_Happy Birthday, Rosamond!!!_**

**

* * *

Chapter 3.**

Next morning found Harry Potter lying in the bed of the Leaky Cauldron, his glasses next to him. He was sprawled across the bed in his muggle clothes, and sleeping very deeply.

The Leaky Cauldron was already littered with early birds, either drinking and talking, or passing through to Diagon Alley. The dirty room was full of some mysterious steam, coming from one of the rooms, most probably a mad wizard/witch spent this night concocting a potion...

The steam and the rooms semi-darkness helped a small group of young Hogwartsers slip in and sit around a table unnoticed. The three figures huddled over their table looked quite suspicious, but were concealed well behind a huge man sitting alone, hunched over his brown mug, drinking. The said man was no other than Rubeus Hagrid, the Hogwarts Gamekeeper.

After digging in his big pocket and checking his watch, Hagrid attempted to jump up, spilling the small amount of mead left onto his coat.

Dabbing at his coat with his napkin a few times, Hagrid left the pub hurriedly, in the direction of Diagon Alley.

* * *

Harry woke later during the day, fitting his glasses on while thinking of what he will do. There was still a long time till September the first, and he was stuck in the Leaky Cauldron and Diagon Alley for another month... a _very _long time. 

After a few minutes of utter helplessness, he gathered himself together and decided to explore Diagon Alley. The endless labyrinth of shops and eateries can be interesting, and in the deepest fits of absolute boredom, one can admire the newest broom.

The day was warm and sunny, causing Harry to long for Quidditch and the cool windy breeze to brush and stroke his ankles. He walked around looking at the shops and stalls, amazed at their old-fashionedness. The witches and wizards were basically the same, and Harry noticed some Hogwarts students, shopping. Most young wizards gathered around one special shop window, causing Harry to get curious and try to see what they were looking at.

Getting closer to the thing they were looking at, Harry saw, in a thick glass case, a sleek brown broom. Quidditch! The word had great effect on him. He stood on tip-toes to try and read the sign under the broom - Cleansweep 5.

Harry had never heard of it before, but, being a Quidditch-lover, he could easily see that his own Firebolt had better qualities. Of course, what he didn't know was that the ultra-cool broom belongs to the future...

Not that interested in the Cleansweep, Harry let the crowd push in infront of him, and, for the first time since he arrived, started examining the people surrounding him.

Most of the crowd consisted of excited Hogwarts wizards, a few witches, and even fewer adults. Watching a tall-ish, lean boy with flaming red hair, Harry felt an odd familiarty, but couldn't understand why. Obviously, he had never seen the boy before...

Deciding to act 'friendly and curious' in order to find out something about the redhead, Harry swallowed his awkwardness, and squeezed himself through the crowd towards him.

"Hey," he started the conversation, and when the boy didn't react, poked him in the back.

The boy turned round, annoyed.

"What?" judging by his voice, he wanted nothing other than Harry to find a 'warmer climate'. Harry decided to change his plan. Answering hi, I just wanted to meet you wouldn't exactly sound appropriate.

"Erm, I just wanted to know what kinda broom that is... err, I can't really see..." That sounded pathetic, Harry decided, and grinned nervously. Surely the boy wouldn't believe it?

"Well, _you_ are an idiot," the redhead stated, smikrking slightly, ready turning back to staring at the broom. Harry was about to leave, when the boy turned back with an apologetic smile on his face.

"Hey, sorry. Didn't mean to sound like a prat, but I waited half a day to look at that broom. Really cool, eh?"

"Ehm, sure." Harry didn't exactly want to say his own broom was tons and millions better, so was a bit at a loss of what to say.

"You don't seem a Quidditch fan. I really want to play Keeper this year - I've been trying out since my fifth year. By the way, I'm Arthur Weasley. Who're you?"

'My, he's talkative,' thought Harry, 'me not being a Quidditch fan? Never said something so untrue before in his life...'

"I'm Harry Potter, and I do Love Quidditch. I'm best at Seeker, and I'd never miss a game for anything..."

"Do you go to Hogwarts? Never seen you before... I'm in my seventh year. This year's going to be pretty cool, I guess."

"My parents went to Brazil, so I'll go to Hogwarts this year. Looks like we're gonna be in the same year. I just turned seventeen."

"Cool. Well, I guess I'll see you 'round..." With that, the boy made his way out of the store, leaving Harry with no more ideas of why he seemed familiar than before they talked.

'Well, at least I know his name, and he might be a good friend.' Harry decide, and left the store too.

* * *

Harry spent the rest of the afternoon looking around the shops, and eating some ice-cream. 

He didn't even notice that the dark shadow of an evil eye was watching his every move - the Dark Lord was very careful not to make a flaw in his plan.

Watching over Potter for at least a few days to make sure his memory really was lost seemed a sensible idea - and the Lord liked sensible ideas that could easily be fulfilled - by his followers.

He couldn't ever imagine himself falling. _That_ was always his fatal mistake.


End file.
